


Ophiuchus

by TRASHCAKE



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Donghyuck just wants a goddamn nap, Fated meetings, M/M, Mark just wants to see his friends, Monsters, Mystery, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Telepathic Bond, powers, soulmates if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-10-05 11:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TRASHCAKE/pseuds/TRASHCAKE
Summary: Donghyuck holds onto a misplaced phone, hoping to see its very cute owner just one more time. But Mark isn't exactly normal, and his phone holds more secrets and danger than Donghyuck could ever be ready for.





	1. Mercury

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again! An old fic circa 2016, revamped for the modern age.
> 
> This one is gonna be looooong, so buckle up, kids.

Some people wax poetic about the rain. They see something romantic, mysterious, beautiful in the changing of the weather, something so incredible about water that falls from the sky. 

The smell of the earth, the atmosphere. Everything changes when it rains. It’s so easy to see why people are enthralled by it. 

However, Donghyuck is decidedly not one of those people. 

Rain is an inconvenience, especially to someone who lives in a town with a near-perpetual wet season. The humidity in the air, the dampness of his socks, the buses that splash his legs with muddy water as they round the corner. Donghyuck thinks it’s all too much of a bother.

But the thing Donghyuck hates most of all is carrying an umbrella. It just gets in the way half the time, and whenever he decides to bring one along for his morning commute, the dark clouds that bloom over his city decide not to deliver on their promises. 

As such, he leaves the accessory at home most of the time, deciding that damp hair and soggy socks are better than the alternative.

He takes shelter at the bus stop near his house, the cold and bothersome rain striking against the old tin roof. This far out of town, no one has bothered to update the shelter into something more modern. Old and barely standing, it fails to do its job properly, and Donghyuck’s socks are soaked through in seconds. 

The stop is only ever used by Donghyuck in the morning, so it surprises him when someone else joins him under the shelter, and unlike Donghyuck, the newcomer has an umbrella. Again, unlike Donghyuck, he’s dressed for a rainy day, what with his windbreaker and hoodie. His fashion sense is the same as every other young person in the town, but there’s something mysterious about him, something that has Donghyuck curious. 

“Nice weather, hey?” The stranger asks as Donghyuck takes a seat beside him on the bench. There’s a wet patch that prevents him from sitting further away, and the stranger shuffles to accommodate him. 

Courteous of personal space, yet friendly enough to greet a stranger at the bus stop. He’s handsome, too, Donghyuck notes with mild interest. He’s interesting for several reasons, some of which Donghyuck just can’t put his finger on.

He’s warm, too. Unnaturally, so. The heat radiating from him can be felt, even with the distance between them. He’s a living, breathing, personal furnace and Donghyuck entertains for a second, the kind of cuddles this handsome stranger might give.

“I’m not a fan,” he says lightly, trying not to shift into the stranger’s warmth. “Of the rain, I mean.” 

Donghyuck shivers slightly as another gust of wind blows through the shelter. His clothes are on the wetter side of damp and he’s feeling mildly uncomfortable. The stranger must notice, because he immediately begins to shrug off his windbreaker, actions suggesting he’s about to offer it to Donghyuck. 

He is interrupted, however, by a phone call. The standard Apple ringtone echoes from the pocket of his jeans, volume increasing as it’s pulled out into the open. 

The stranger has an old, battered iPhone. A 4S by the looks of it. Something too ancient for someone so young. Donghyuck had one when he was a kid, the first phone he ever had. But unlike the stranger, he took good care of it, and upgraded when the time came.  
His phone screen is shattered, despite the bulky protective case on it. It looks to be in barely workable condition and Donghyuck wonders just what kind of magic is holding it together. 

“Hey,” he swipes to answer the call, frowning at the sky as it begins to darken. “I found two more,” the stranger says, “Jupiter and Saturn, it looks like they’ve been busy.”

He’s found planets, stares at storms with gloomy expressions and radiates warmth almost unknowingly. The stranger, while also quite handsome, is the most fascinating person that Donghyuck has ever met. 

“Yeah, I know,” he answers the person on the other end of the line. “I’ll look into it.” 

Donghyuck can’t pretend that he’s not curious. He’s hardly subtle about it, too, with the stranger shooting him looks every so often while he eavesdrops. 

“But it’s my _job_ to,” the stranger continues, “whatever, just… I’ll keep you updated.”

He hangs up and Donghyuck pretends he hasn’t been listening the entire time. He taps his feet on the ground, splashing lightly in the water pooling beneath his shoes. 

“There are some things you don’t wanna know about,” the stranger says, and it takes Donghyuck a while to realise that he’s being spoken to. 

“Try me.” 

The stranger huffs, amused and annoyed. “Not today,” he says. 

“Then next time we meet?” Donghyuck doesn’t know why, but he feels like he’s going to see this stranger again. 

“Not then, either,” he replies, standing up as the bus comes to a stop in front of them. 

There is the temptation to sit next to the stranger on the empty bus. 

Donghyuck doesn’t follow it.

\------

Donghyuck works in a phone repair store. It’s not exactly what he thought he’d be doing with his life, but the pay is decent and the days are just busy enough to keep him occupied. He’s become a pro at applying screen protectors and gets a discount on the cute phone cases they sell on the side. 

All in all, he can’t really complain. 

He’s sat at the counter, fiddling with his phone, when a customer enters the shop. 

“I told you we’d meet again,” he says with a grin, taking delight in the surprise on the stranger’s face. 

“So you did,” he laughs to himself, shaking his head slightly. “Can you fix older model phones?” 

“Sure I can,” Donghyuck jumps off his stool, offers a hand and takes the offered phone. “You’ve really put this thing through hell, huh?” he muses, turning the phone over in his palm. 

“In my line of work, things tend to get broken.” 

“More things you can’t tell me?” 

“You’re learning fast,” the stranger says. 

“I’m gonna need a name,” Donghyuck mentions, offhandedly, as he gets to work. Honestly, it’s the end of the day. He’s about to close up. With a lack of customers and nothing else to do, he doesn’t need to attach a name to the phone and can fix it on the spot. But he’s curious, wants whatever information he’s willing to give. 

“Mark,” the stranger offers. “My name, it’s Mark.”

For some reason, it makes sense. Donghyuck feels as if he should have known, somehow, like the stranger isn’t so strange after all. 

“I’m—”

“—Donghyuck,” Mark gestures to his nametag. “I know.” 

“Smartass,” Donghyuck huffs, goes back to fixing Mark’s phone. 

The screen comes off in pieces, delicate work as Donghyuck replaces what he can. He picks shards of glass from the phone with tweezers, Mark watching him work with interest. 

“Have you ever thought of upgrading?” Donghyuck says, applying the new screen. 

“Nope,” Mark hums, “too many memories attached to that phone.” 

“Sounds like something else you won’t tell me.” 

“Are you always this nosey, or am I just special?” 

“I’m always this nosey,” Donghyuck looks up, grins. “But I’d say you’re pretty special, too.” 

“You have no idea.” 

Donghyuck turns the phone back on, makes sure it still functions after all the work he’s done to it. He’s good at his job, so there’s no chance that he’s damaged the hardware, but it’s protocol. 

The device is on for less than ten seconds before the phone begins to ring, a private number, no details shown. 

“You’re popular,” Donghyuck notes with mild curiosity. 

Mark pays no attention to the phone, “ignore it,” he says, looking around the store nervously. “Whatever you do, don’t pick up.” 

“Wasn’t going to,” Donghyuck shrugs. Not his phone, not his problem. “You got debt collectors after you or something—" 

The fluorescent bulbs of the store shut off, turn back on. They flicker, back and forth between darkness and light matching the tempo of the phone buzzing on the counter. 

“What the fuck,” Donghyuck says, scrambling for the phone. He has no idea what he’s going to do once it’s in his hands, but something tells him that the phone— Mark’s phone— is the cause of all the strange events happening within the store. 

“Don’t!” Mark leans across the counter, catches Donghyuck’s hands before they can make contact with the phone. “Don’t touch it.” 

He holds Donghyuck’s hands until the call stops, hands impossibly warm. Eventually, the call goes to voicemail and the lights stop flickering. Mark still holds Donghyuck’s hands in his own, eyes darting around the store, as if searching for something. 

“For once,” Donghyuck breathes as Mark begins to calm, pulling his hands away and wiping the sweat on his jeans. “I don’t want to know what that was.” 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time,” Mark replies with a shaky smile. 

He takes the phone from the counter, pocketing it. 

Donghyuck is happy to have it out of his sight.

\------

“Want me to walk you to the bus stop?” Mark asks, swinging his umbrella as he waits for Donghyuck to lock up shop. 

“And why would you do that?” Donghyuck eyes him curiously. He’s not opposed, not in the slightest. It’s not every day that a cute boy even talks to him, let alone asks to accompany him to a bus stop. 

But then again, Mark is something more than _just_ a cute boy. He’s a mystery, and the more Donghyuck learns, the more he wants to solve it. 

“Because it’s raining,” Mark grins, boyish and charming. “Make that storming.” 

“So?” 

“You don’t have an umbrella,” Mark gestures to the small, foldable one in his hand. “Wouldn’t want you catching a cold, now, would we?”

“You’re acting suspicious,” Donghyuck side-eyes him, but accepts the shelter from the storm. 

“Because you know too much.”

The space under the umbrella is limited, the two of them barely fitting under the brim. Rain still drips onto Donghyuck’s shoulder, but it’s better than being soaking wet. There’s an urge there, a temptation, one that has Donghyuck’s fingers twitching.  
He wants to hold Mark’s hand, and he has no idea where the thought has come from. 

“But I don’t know anything,” Donghyuck whines, instead. “You haven’t told me anything but your name.” 

Mark is warm, almost unbearably so. Donghyuck so badly wants to snuggle into his side, cling to his arm as they walk towards the bus stop. They may be on a first-name basis, but that’s not an invitation for semi-romantic strolls in the rain.

“Still too much,” Mark laughs, pauses. “Want to know more?” 

“Yes.” 

Donghyuck doesn’t even hesitate to answer. 

Mark guides Donghyuck under the shelter of the bus stop, gesturing for him to sit down, then taking a seat next to him. “My bus doesn’t stop here,” he says, fiddling with his phone. 

“You’re keeping an eye on me, huh?” Donghyuck, cold and remembering how warm Mark is, shuffles closer. There’s a thud as Mark puts his phone down on the seat between them. 

“Something like that,” Mark mumbles, relaxing back into the bench. 

The silence, awkward, stretches out, interrupted only by the sound of rain on metal and the thunder in the distance. 

“I hate storms,” Donghyuck mumbles, pulling his legs up to his chest. Water pools beneath his feet seeping through the canvas of his shoes and into his socks. 

“I just wish they’d be a little more discreet,” Mark mutters to himself. “But knowing _them_, that’s just too much to ask for.”

“I’m also not asking,” Donghyuck raises his hand. “I want to ask, but I know you won’t tell me, anyway.”

“Look at you, learning so quickly,” Mark teases before standing up. He frowns at the darkened skies, eyes narrowing at the next rumbling of thunder. “I’ve got some things to take care of,” he says, “you’ll be okay until the bus comes?” 

“Sure thing,” Donghyuck offers him a two-fingered salute. “Until next time, Mister Mystery.” 

“Later,” Mark waves awkwardly, opening his umbrella. 

Donghyuck watches him leave, already missing his human furnace. 

It’s not until the bus comes that he realises; Mark has left his precious phone on the bench of the bus stop. With hesitant fingers, he reaches for the device, wondering just what it is that makes the old thing so special. An unexpected gust of wind picks up as his fingers brush the screen, Donghyuck’s jacket fluttering violently. 

The wind seemingly blows from no direction, a gale that spirals around him.

In his hand, Mark’s phone shakes, lights up, another incoming call, this time, the phone ID reads _Jisung_.

The storm still rages, heavier than before if possible, but the phone quivers before falling flat into Donghyuck’s palm. The screen lights up with a familiar symbol, something Donghyuck has seen before but cannot place. 

Intrigued, Donghyuck runs shaking fingertips over the phone screen. He traces along the runes, outlining the loop, the pointed end. Another bolt of lighting, this one brighter than before. It splinters, engulfing the entire sky with momentary light. 

He’s not one to scare easily, and not usually afraid of storms, but there is something about this one that fills him with dread and terror; his breathing speeds up, almost to the point of hyperventilation. 

Each inhale feels like fire in his lungs, the shortness of breath overwhelming him. 

Donghyuck’s vision fades, until only darkness remains. 

\------

A man stands in the centre of the storm. 

No, _two_ men. 

They seem unphased by the rain. 

The first man raises his hand to the sky, the clouds beginning to swirl above him, winds reaching speeds that he should not be able to stand within. His friend lowers his arm and lightning strikes something in the distance, the target releasing an inhuman scream. 

Suddenly, something shifts, the winds changing direction as the two men are thrown off balance. The two men both raise their hands, groaning under unseen pressure as they fight to take control of the storm. 

Darkness. 

Figures who look just like them crawling from the darkness, their eyes black and hands raised.

The storm swirls, the rain falls and the figures begin to scream. 

\------

“Hey!” 

Donghyuck comes to, shaking his head rapidly to clear his thoughts. He still has Mark’s phone in his hand, and his leg feels far damper than it did previously. 

“You taking the bus, or not?” The most stereotypical bus driver sits behind the wheel, glaring at Donghyuck and tapping his fingertips along the bus’ front console impatiently.

“Uh, yeah,” Donghyuck replies, gathering his things. He’s tempted to leave the phone where it is, on the off chance that Mark comes back looking for it. It’s raining, however, and the bus Donghyuck takes is the very last in the service. There is a very good chance that the phone may be damaged beyond repair by the time morning comes, if it’s not picked up by someone else in the interim.

Strange experiences aside, the phone seems important, and Mark has promised another meeting. Somehow, in some way, they will meet again, and all he has to do is keep the phone safe until that point. 

Sounds easy. 

His bus pass beeps as he presses it against the pad. Ignoring the driver’s disgruntled grumbling, Donghyuck works his way through the empty bus until he reaches his preferred seat. 

For some reason, he cradles the phone to his chest. It is something important, something to be protected. 

That much he can tell. 

\------

As invasive and intrusive as it sounds, Donghyuck fully intends to look through Mark’s phone. He scoffs at Mark’s lack of passcode and easily unlocks the phone. There’s nothing too interesting about the layout— no custom wallpaper, no additional app apart from those that come with the phone. Donghyuck opens the camera app, snaps a selfie and adds a surprise, a little flair on his phone.

Freshly showered and free from mud, Donghyuck settles into bed, hoping to discover something from Mark’s mysterious, yet completely ordinary, phone. 

He feels a little guilty, because a phone can be such a private thing. But Mark seems to be keeping nothing but his contacts saved on the device, so Donghyuck really has no private information to snoop on. 

It’s a little disappointing, to be honest. Although, Donghyuck doesn’t quite know what he was expecting. A few text messages from his friends and family, a Facebook account he can add and subsequently contact about the lost device. Maybe he was hoping to find a photo or two stored in the gallery— a cute selfie, perhaps. Or maybe one where Mark attempts to look more sultry, even. 

Mark doesn’t seem like the type, but Donghyuck can’t deny that he’d probably be able to pull off something a little more _mature_. 

Donghyuck realises he’s getting sidetracked, shakes his head to himself and continues his curious perusal of the phone. 

There’s nothing. No emails, no messages, no social media. But there _is_ a notes app, and that’s where Donghyuck hits the jackpot. 

Eight names. Twelve question marks. Some have additional information listed beside it. For example the name _Jaehyun_ is accompanied by the phrase _BLACK HOLE_ and followed up by a series of angry emojis. 

Donghyuck laughs to himself, amused by how cute Mark is with his mysterious notes. He reads through the others, all as confusing as the entry for Jaehyun. There are names of people and planets, cosmic phenomena. Some of them are listed as _nearby_, others are _unknown_. 

The person named Taeyong has apparently _gone home_, to which Mark has commented with several sad and crying emojis. 

He’s honestly the cutest, and while confused, Donghyuck is hopelessly endeared. 

Still, despite Mark’s warnings, Donghyuck is curious. About the empty phone, the names and notes within it. He’ll have to ask Mark, the next time their paths inevitably cross.

Donghyuck knows very well that one simple phone call would be enough to get the phone out of his hands and back into Mark’s. After all, he has several contacts for him to call and arrange for an exchange. But that doesn’t exactly allow for another meeting between the two, and it’s something that Donghyuck is looking forward to. 

Opening the contacts list, he keys his own number in and saves it, hoping that Mark might use the opportunity once he gets his phone back. Wishful thinking on his part, but it’s late and he’s exhausted— completely free from shame and inhibition. 

A sudden chill overcomes him, one that he shouldn’t feel. The heater is on, he’s tucked neatly under the covers of his bed. Yet the hair on his arms begins to rise, teeth chattering as an ungodly blanket of cold descends upon him. 

It’s the second time something strange has happened while in the phone’s presence. He’s heard of cursed items, read enough stories on the internet and watched one too many horror movies. But they’re not real, and Mark’s phone is. 

Whatever it is, it still makes Donghyuck feels like he’s being watched. It’s all too much for one day. 

He’s tired, and his mind is playing tricks on him. 

That’s all it is, he assures himself. That’s all it could possibly be.

\------

Mark lies in a field, a snapback hat covering his eyes. He wears the same outfit that Donghyuck remembers him in, the windbreaker and sweater, the damp cuffs of his jeans. It seems far too hot to be wearing such clothes, judging by the dry, brittle grass beneath him. 

Wherever he is, it has not seen rain for some time, the flora grey where it should be green, the ground cracking beneath his feet with every step.

Adjusting his snapback, he stands. Blades of grass and dust cling to the back of his windbreaker, though he makes no move to brush it off. Some of the debris shifts with his movements; Donghyuck watches as Mark searches his pockets for something and comes up blank. 

Mark must be looking for his phone, Donghyuck realises, watching as Mark’s expression morphs into one of panic. He mouths something that Donghyuck can’t hear, lips pursing and forming words that carry away on the wind. 

“—hyuck.” 

His face twists into confusion as he reaches out in front of him, to where Donghyuck stands. His fingertips grasp at thin air before falling to his sides in defeat. 

Mark turns on his heel and runs. 

Sneakers crush the brittle grass and weeds as he moves with heavy steps, portions of his journey shaded by the mountainous terrain that surrounds him. In the shadows, it seems far less hot, though Mark doesn’t seem to notice the sweltering heat, even through the multiple layers of clothing that he wears. 

Donghyuck doesn’t move, not intentionally. He seems pulled along by Mark, hovering behind him as he traverses through the impossible desert. They’re linked, somehow. Every step that Mark takes, mirrored by one of Donghyuck’s own. 

It shouldn’t be possible, not their connection and neither Mark’s pace. His journey covers a great distance in such a short amount of time. Mark jogs at a leisurely pace but he seems to fly— each foot lifts from the ground in one place and lands in completely different scenery.

Soon, gone is the barren desert he woke up in, the skyline slowly morphing and changing. A forest comes into view for the briefest moment, but Donghyuck blinks, Mark’s foot falls, and the alters his course, his gaze set firmly on a set of ruins to the east. 

Towering pillars of crumbling stone, they seem to hide a secret, as Mark inspects the dilapidated walls, as if searching for something. Whatever he’s looking for seems to be missing, as he sighs in annoyance, perched on old foundations and casting his gaze at the distant forest. 

Donghyuck blinks again. The scenery shifts once more, and Mark stands amongst countless trees. They’re inexplicably large and incredibly old; their towering canopies reaching far into the air, too far for Donghyuck to see. Something seems to be following them, for Mark’s eyes dart around, searching in all directions for an unknown foe or danger. 

They attack from above, and Donghyuck flinches in fear, bracing his hands on the crown of his head, cowering on his knees. A crackle, the first noise that Donghyuck notices, heat and light and flame. 

Mark’s hands spark alight, fire filling his palms. Small sparks ignite the dry wood of the forest, crawling from the dead leaves and sticks on the ground, up tree trunks and quickly towards the canopy above. Branches fill with incredible flames as the forest burns, and Mark stands among it all, unphased and unharmed by the blaze. 

He looks magnificent, powerful, almost otherworldly as the fire licks at his shins. Smoke billows and curls, filling Donghyuck’s lungs and clouding his vision. 

With a start, he sits bolt upright in his bed. 

The taste of ash still lingers on his tongue. 

\------

Donghyuck is a lot of things, but a morning person is definitely not one of them. His sleep restless and uneventful after his strange dream, he wakes long past his alarm, feeling far more tired and drained than the night before. It’s as if he hasn’t slept at all, and it takes most of his energy just to pull himself from his bed. 

The store can wait, he decides. He can barely walk, let alone make the journey into town, only to spend all day unpacking stock and fiddling with delicate phone screens. The owner won’t mind, probably won’t even notice his day of absence. Donghyuck is in no condition to work, as he feels worse with each waking moment, his eyes heavy and refusing to stay open. 

Three interactions with the phone and three strange events. Visions, almost, like it can grant psychic powers, or something equally as mystical. There is something odd about both phone and owner, and Donghyuck is starting to understand why he’s been told to leave well enough alone.

Though thoroughly a sceptic, he’s starting to question everything he’s ever believed in. The past twenty-four hours have been terrifying in both occurrence and implication. Unnatural storms and strange visions, ones implying something sinister and supernatural. He’s sure the answer could be easily pulled from one of the contacts on Mark’s phone, but something tells Donghyuck that none of them would even answer the call, anyway. 

He’s tired, he’s afraid. His clothes smell like smoke, the hem of his pyjama pants inexplicably charred. 

Donghyuck is on edge, using his minuscule amounts of energy to check his window with concerned glances. 

There’s something outside, he can tell. He can hear scratching, growls, and sometimes his eyes catch the briefest flicker of movement by his windowsill.

It’s too much for him. He stops fighting his exhaustion, giving in to the overwhelming need for sleep. 

His rest is calm, uneventful. 

Donghyuck does not dream. 

\------

Awakening long after nightfall, Donghyuck groans as he’s pulled into consciousness. The time on his phone reads a little after ten, not all that late at night yet still far later than he expected. He makes sure to take his own device, not Mark’s where it sits on his nightstand. 

He doesn’t even want to _look_ at the phone at this point, let alone touch it. 

Stretching as he yawns, Donghyuck sits up. The smell of smoke has transferred from his clothes to his bed, and he curses the awful weather for making it impossible to do the laundry. 

Washing his sheets should be the least of his concerns, all things considered, but he’s trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. He’s been cursed by an odd phone, now sees visions of strange men with magical powers and there is _definitely_ something watching him through the window. 

Donghyuck doesn’t dwell on the glowing eyes that line the glass, refuses to wonder how they made it to the third floor of an apartment building. No, the sole problem in Donghyuck’s life is his smelly sheets and rain that just won’t quit. 

He’s wasted an entire day in bed, and though still mildly exhausted, he feels the need to do something, anything. His house no longer feels warm and accommodating, quite the opposite, in fact. Very rarely does he feel the need to explore, but there’s an unmistakable itch beneath his skin, he feels restless and cooped up. 

Donghyuck finds himself filled with the inexplicable urge to _leave_. 

He’s so hurried in his movements that he barely remembers to dress himself, almost forgets his keys on the kitchen bench. Burnt pyjamas lying ignored on a pile of laundry and house keys jingling in his pocket, he leaves the house, feeling lighter with each step he takes away from the cursed phone. 

The storm must have damaged some of the power lines, as the streetlights flicker, steady and ominous as Donghyuck passes. Some go out completely as he steps towards them, reigniting once he’s out of their range. It should be strange, something that makes him stop and think.

But with recent events, there isn’t much that can shock him, not anymore. Everything is strange and nothing can be explained. Mark lies at the centre of it, and proximity has dragged Donghyuck into the eye of the storm. 

Inhuman sounds, chittering and low growls, red eyes glowing in the darkness. Donghyuck ignores them all, pretends he doesn’t spot blackened hands reaching towards him from the darkness. 

A park sits at the end of Donghyuck’s street, one with a small gathering of trees adjacent to the playset. Children are warned to never enter the forest, schoolyards ripple with gossip of evil lurking within the canopies. Some say that it's haunted, others that it contains a sacrificial altar, one where wandering children meet their doom. 

All hearsay; fabricated rumours spun by paranoid parents, an attempt to keep children controlled and by their sides. Donghyuck has lived in the neighbourhood his entire life, and not once has he felt the need to venture past the first line of trees, not even as a child, so young and curious. 

But now he seeks it out, drawn to it, almost. Perhaps being surrounded by trees will bring him closer to Mark, maybe even help him understand everything that’s happened to him over the past 24 hours. 

A long shot, sure, but his desire to enter the forest becomes more like compulsion with every step he takes towards it. 

The streetlights stop their flickering, choosing instead to engulf the entire area with darkness. Donghyuck should be bothered by the suspicious lack of light, but he feels oddly calm, relying on instinct alone to navigate his way towards the ring of trees.

Birds take flight the second he breaches the first line of the forest. They make such an awful racket, screeches echoing through the night as they flee. It’s as if something has scared them, though Donghyuck treads lightly and makes very little noise. The birds are either overly vigilant, or there’s something else that joins Donghyuck within the forest. 

Judging by the glowing eyes and low growls, it’s definitely the latter. Again, he should be _terrified_, should be running for his life. Whatever creature that lurks at his apartment seems to have followed him here, or perhaps this time it’s _Donghyuck_ that has intruded on their home. 

There are so many of them, countless eyes illuminate the area with a soft, red glow. 

He doesn’t fear them, not like he should. Donghyuck raises his hand like the stranger in his dream, holding his palm flat and facing the canopies. The creatures begin to growl at his action, the displeased noises drawn from their throats as something scratches at the dirt below. Claws, perhaps. Even paws or hands. The scent of dirt fills the air, small clouds rising from the ground and temporarily blocking Donghyuck’s vision of their red, glowing eyes. 

Focusing, Donghyuck tries to summon fire as the stranger did. Nothing happens, and he’s unreasonably disappointed by it. He stares at his hand for a moment, wondering just what he did wrong. 

“What are you doing here?” the man behind him appears out of thin air, materialising from nothing, his arrival signified by a small _whoosh_. Donghyuck’s jacket rustles in the breeze. 

“I don’t know,” Donghyuck replies. The creature’s eyes seem to narrow, the growling increasing in volume at the new arrival. 

“You don’t—” Donghyuck can hear the way he sighs in annoyance. “It’s not safe here.” 

A hand clasps around his wrist, cold fingertips sinking into his skin. The world blurs, lights and colours streak through Donghyuck’s vision as the wind whistles in his ears. He’s moving impossibly fast, dragged along by the mysterious newcomer and his intriguing powers. He must be like Mark, or the men he saw in the storm. 

He wonders if they know each other.

If this man is one of the names listed in Mark’s phone. 

Lurching to a stop, Donghyuck finds himself sprawled along the pavement. He’s landed a fair distance away from the park and forest, though still on the same street. He can’t see much, the only light sources coming from the inside of houses, diffused through windows and curtains. 

“Who are you?” Donghyuck’s throat is raw, like he screamed for the entirety of the journey. He massages at his larynx, attempting to dull or alleviate the pain. It doesn’t work, and Donghyuck winces as he stands, his entire body sore and aching. 

He’s met with no reply but the displacement of air, his rescuer disappearing in a cloud of darkness. 

In the distance, the lights reignite. 

\------

Donghyuck arrives at his bus stop a little earlier than usual, hoping to catch Mark and to return his phone. He’s had enough, quite frankly. He hasn’t been able to sleep with all the growls and glowing eyes lurking at his windowsill. The identity of his nightly spectators is as much of a mystery as the rest of it all— the phone, the visions, Mark himself— and if unravelling them means more creatures on his doorstep, then Donghyuck wants nothing to do with it. 

He needs to find Mark and _soon_. 

Honestly, he’s not quite sure just how much more he can take. 

Someone joins him in the shelter, and Donghyuck is disappointed to find the wrong kind of stranger. He doesn’t know this man, but it’s not the person he’s expecting. A little too short and with neat, pink hair instead of Mark’s messy blonde locks.

Even their clothing is the complete opposite, the new stranger dresses far more outlandishly, stands out in the crowd. A pair of sunglasses rest on the tip of his nose, and Donghyuck is aware that this man’s entire outfit is worth more than his entire life. 

Donghyuck doesn’t know him, but something about him seems so _familiar_. It must be the scenario, the comparison to Mark, he reasons. A new face in an unexpected location, someone whose appearance causes Donghyuck to wonder. 

He’s never seent he pink-haired man before, but everything inside him is screaming, telling him that he knows exactly who it is. There’s a name on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill past his lips but something holds him back. Syllables appear, arrange and rearrange themselves in his mind. 

Donghyuck feels warm, impossibly so, sweating right through his hoodie as he tries, desperately, to think— 

“—_Taeyong_,” he manages to gasp, and the man next to him looks at him in surprise. 

“How do you know my name?” he asks, on guard. “Who told you?”

His voice raises at the end of his sentence. He’s afraid, and Donghyuck doesn’t blame him. Rummaging around in his bag, he fishes Mark’s phone from the inner pocket, making a mess and probably startling the man next to him. It doesn’t matter, because Donghyuck might have found someone who can take the phone from him, and hopefully take the monsters with it. 

“What is this,” Donghyuck demands, insistently shoving the phone at Taeyong. He seems angry for a moment, annoyed that some _stranger_ is invading his personal space. But then his expression changes; shocked, confused. 

“Where did you get that?” He seems to shrink away from the device, unwilling to have it anywhere near him. 

“Not an answer,” Donghyuck holds the phone out, wordlessly, breathlessly and Taeyong flinches away as if burned. “What is this thing?” 

“It’s dangerous,” the man mutters. Shifting subtly so that he’s further away from both Donghyuck and the phone he brandishes. “I answered your question, now answer mine.” 

“I got it from Mark,” Donghyuck wants answers, hopes that this Taeyong guy will give them to him. “He’s cute, about my height? Very warm,” the phone remains in his hands, and he’s beginning to suspect that it will remain that way. “You’re like him, aren’t you? He said you’d gone home.” 

“I know who Mark is,” he mutters. He stands up, beginning to pace along the front of the bus stop. Donghyuck cringes as he walks through the puddles in his expensive shoes. “Wait,” Taeyong holds up an accusatory finger. “You know what Mark is?” 

“Not quite…” Donghyuck pauses, trying to find the right words. “But I’ve seen his fire, and I’ve met the man in the woods. And then there was the vision—” 

“You’re having visions?” he sounds so surprised, his eyes round in shock, mouth gaping open, just slightly. 

“Mark on fire,” Donghyuck says softly. “Two guys in a field, controlling the storm.” 

“That’s interesting,” he says, offering nothing more in reply. 

“So, are you going to tell me anything?” Donghyuck pushes. 

“The less you know, the better.” 

“Not even names?” Donghyuck pleads, taking hold of Taeyong’s arm and shaking it. “It’s exhausting trying to find different ways of referring to you all.” 

“The less you know, the better.” 

“You should take this, then,” Donghyuck tries to push the phone into his hands, but Taeyong steps as far from Donghyuck’s reach as he possibly can. 

“I don’t want it,” he seethes, “I told you, it’s dangerous.” 

“Then why should I keep it?” Donghyuck cries, overwhelmed. He’s finally having a proper conversation about the phone but getting nowhere. He doesn’t want it anymore, he just wants to get rid of the thing and be done with it. He’s willing to forget everything he’s seen— the creatures, the incredible men, the visions — all of it. 

Just so long as someone takes the phone off his hands. 

“Destroy it,” the man replies, plainly. “If you don’t want it, then don’t keep it.” 

He wants to, but he knows he shouldn’t. Donghyuck can’t so willingly destroy something so mysterious and full of secrets, his curiosity always winning out. 

Plus, Mark will definitely come looking for it in due time. Donghyuck wants to see him again, but without having to explain why his phone is in pieces and thrown in the trash. 

“Will you at least tell me their names?” Donghyuck replies, defeated. “The ones like you, I mean. What are their names?” 

The man shoots him an exasperated look. 

“Right, right,” comes Donghyuck’s morose reply. “The less I know, the better.”


	2. To Form A Solar System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unwelcome phone calls and the arrival of friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter answers literally none of your questions

For as long as Donghyuck has lived on his street, there has been an empty house. Of course, it hasn’t _always_ been empty, for houses are built to be lived in, not abandoned. Donghyuck moved into his apartment as the last resident moved out, or rather, _disappeared_. Donghyuck only saw him a few times before the whispers started, curious neighbours wondering why the mail was piling up and the lights never seemed to turn on. 

Months later, the house went on sale, and no buyer has been able to stand the place for more than a few weeks, most of them hastily packing their belongings and fleeing in the middle of the night. It’s the point where no real estate agent will touch the place, refusing to list it or even step foot inside the threshold. 

They say it’s cursed, theorise that the former tenant has died and still wanders the halls. Each of Donghyuck’s new neighbours leave before they have a chance to be introduced, so he’s never known just what happens inside those walls. 

Which is a shame, really, considering the beauty of the place. Large, covered in glass windows; it’s almost like a mansion rather than a house. It’s so unfortunate that such a beautifully architectured building has been left with the fate of dilapidation and decay. 

On Donghyuck’s day off, someone moves in, much to the surprise of the entire street. Everyone not preoccupied with work or errands stand on the sidewalk, a silent welcoming party as the moving van pulls into the driveway. Two men step from the chassis, laughing at something and completely unaware of their audience. Not one of their neighbours moves to greet them, each person and family turning on their heels, one by one re-entering their houses, the commotion and spectacle over, now that they’ve had their first— and presumably _last_ glance at the house’s two new unfortunate tenants. 

Overwhelmingly curious, Donghyuck changes from his pyjamas into more suitable clothes, intent on making friends. Who knows, they might be friendly enough to welcome Donghyuck to their house, maybe they’ll get close enough to divulge the mysteries encompassed by the stark white walls.

Entirely too late, Donghyuck realises he’s left without some sort of welcoming gift. Aren’t people usually supposed to bring baked good or something to new neighbours? Though he looks far nosier this way, he supposes he could just offer to help them move. There _is_ only two of them, after all. 

“Hi there!” 

By the time Donghyuck reaches the truck, there is only one person present, and apparently, he spots Donghyuck first. He’s taller than Donghyuck, though not by much; broad shoulders and classically handsome, if he sticks around then the street’s population of grandmothers will be fighting amongst themselves for the right to introduce him to their granddaughters. 

“Hi,” Donghyuck waves awkwardly, “thought you might like a hand?” 

“That’s nice of you!” says Donghyuck’s new neighbour. He awkwardly tries to juggle the box in his arms, huffing in annoyance as he tries to extend a hand to shake. Giving up, the box ends up on the ground by his feet. 

“I’m Kun,” he says, wiping his palms against his jeans. They’re dirty, covered in the dust that surely blankets the inside of the house. “Ten’s in there somewhere putting boxes away.”

A thumb jerked in the direction of Kun’s new home, and Donghyuck catches a glimpse of the wedding band on his finger. He’s willing to bet that the mysterious Ten has a matching one, and that the two of them aren’t _just_ housemates. 

“Nice to meet you,” Donghyuck says, offering his hand for Kun to shake. Their fingers brush, and it happens again. Donghyuck’s breath is pulled from his chest, his mind supplying impossible memories of a stranger. 

His vision is as brief as the contact he has with Kun’s hand; a cave, a snowstorm. An avalanche forming, only to be waved away by shaking hands. More eyes in the darkness that follows, blood red and glowing, their inhuman growls echoing through Donghyuck’s subconscious. 

Jerking his hand from Kun’s grip, he takes a tumbling step backwards. Another one, a mystery that is slowly but surely creeping closer to his home. 

“I’m new to town,” Kun offers. If he’s noticed Donghyuck’s odd behaviour he doesn’t comment. “I’ve heard that I’ll get a lot of work done here.” 

“Let me guess,” Donghyuck clutches at his chest, heart racing from the remnants of his vision. “It’s better if I don’t ask what you do.” 

Kun’s eyes narrow, the persona of a friendly neighbour gone in an instant. He looks terrifying, such a drastic change from only a shift of his eyebrows. The air around them cools in an instant; muggy humidity freezing into frigid cold. Donghyuck’s breath becomes visible as he pants in exhaustion and fear, shaking as he stands in such a sudden, icy snap. 

“I’ve heard about you, too,” Kun mutters, voice dark. “What you have, I want it kept away from me.” 

“Now, now.” 

The cold displaces for a moment, as if something has cut through it. A new person joins them, appearing in the blink of an eye, or perhaps faster. Donghyuck doesn’t even register his presence until he speaks, starting him down with the same ferocious intensity as Kun. 

“You must be Ten,” Donghyuck tries not to be intimidated and fails miserably. Ten smirks like he can sense his fear. Donghyuck doesn’t know who he is, nor what he’s capable of. Being able to sense emotions is something he wouldn’t put past these mysterious, dangerous friends of Mark’s. 

“Must I?” Ten drawls. His voice echoes from one place as his body relocates to another. His sentence still resonating from his place beside Kun as he rests his forearms on Donghyuck from behind. “If I’m Ten, then who are you, huh?” 

“Donghyuck, I’m Donghyuck.” 

“Huh.” 

Ten’s voice still rings in his ears, but he’s immediately back at his position by Kun’s side. 

“They’ve told me about the kid,” Ten jerks a finger in Donghyuck’s direction, but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge him. “Being his neighbour will help with our _work_.” 

“If you say so,” Kun replies, but the cold and his frown don’t seem to ease. 

“What exactly do you do?” Donghyuck finds his courage, asks directly. For some reason, he feels like Ten will be the one to tell him, a voice in his head encouraging his curiosity. 

“We keep the balance,” Ten replies simply. “And things are looking awfully off centre around here.” 

“That’s not an answer,” Donghyuck complains, but he blinks and his new neighbours are gone. 

“_It is, but only if you know the question_.” 

Ten’s voice continues to whisper, long after he’s gone. 

\------ 

Small towns don’t boast traffic, even in the early hours of the morning. Sure, there are an increased amount of people on the main street, but there has never been enough of a crowd to congest the sidewalk. 

People spill from the pavement and onto the empty road, a crowd bigger than Donghyuck has ever seen. They all walk towards him, no single soul moving in the opposite direction. 

None except Donghyuck.

They’re not strangers, either. Each face in the crowd is a recognisable one; from customers to people he takes the bus with during the morning commute. The kid who sells him groceries every second Sunday joins them, too, dressed in his work uniform even though he should be at school. 

The crowd stares at him as he tries to push through, not one single soul making an effort to step out of his way. Donghyuck is bustled to and fro in the crowd, fighting his way through the crowd, the only noise his own grunts as he collides with person after person. 

A brief flash of movement and Donghyuck swears for a moment that he sees Mark in the crowd. He moves quickly, pushing against the crowd ad Donghyuck does, a ripple of displacement following his path. 

“Mark!” 

Donghyuck calls out for him, but the movement doesn’t stop. 

“Mark, I still have your phone!” 

The crowd stops moving, all eyes focused on him. They’ve paused so unnaturally— necks twisting to the point where they should be broked, teeth bared and chattering. 

A flash of red ripples through the crowd, eyes flashing one by one as they stare, unblinking, in Donghyuck’s direction. Features twisting and morphing, the crowd lose their humanity for one moment, before necks snap back into place and gazes fade. 

The throng of people continues to swirl around him, the chatter of human voices starting to bubble into a crescendo. 

Donghyuck sinks to the ground in shock. 

The crowd of people step around him as they go. 

\------

**From: Johnny**  
_im sorry, but youre gonna need to keep that phone for a while_  
_i cant get to you until i know its safe_  
_im so sorry, i really am_  
_please dont let it out of your sight_  
_its important_

“Yeah, no fucking kidding,” Donghyuck scoffs, tucking Mark’s phone back into his pocket. Obviously, he’s with someone named Johnny and can’t quite make it down to Donghyuck’s store to pick up his phone. Despite the limited information and array of secrets, Donghyuck is starting to piece together pieces of Mark. 

For example, he sends multiple, one-sentence texts, rather than sending a full paragraph. It’s a little bit endearing, if he’s completely honest. Mark’s texting habits give off the illusion that he’s a normal guy that Donghyuck is messaging, not someone who stands in flames but cannot burn. 

**To: Johnny**  
_you owe me_  
_also your phone is fucking ancient lol_

Donghyuck puts the phone face down on the counter, resting his chin on his hands as he watches people pass him by. Usually, people stop to look at the phone cases and accessories displayed in the window, or wander in to pass the time. 

But no one even spares him a glance, like the store isn’t even there.

**From: Johnny**  
_im gonna make it up to you_  
_i promise_  
_also shut up about my phone it has character_

Donghyuck snorts.

It’s a quiet day, so he flicks through Mark’s notes disinterestedly as he waits for something to happen. 

Ten and Kun’s names are on his list, along with a snowflake, a man running and a bunch of heart emojis. The mysterious Johnny has a flexing arm and a magnet. 

Donghyuck can’t quite grasp what Mark and his friends are, but he’s figured out what they can _do_. He’s seen firsthand evidence of certain abilities, and by flicking through Mark’s phone he’s come to correlate their powers to Mark’s choice of emojis. 

Kun has some sort of control over cold and ice, while Ten is faster than should be humanly possible. 

There are lightning and waves, black dots and nuclear symbols. Mark writes in code but for the modern age, tells stories in stickers and keeps Donghyuck guessing. 

He exits from the app, but not before noticing a new entry. _For Donghyuck’s Eyes Only_, it’s called. 

The note has only just been created, mere minutes ago. 

Donghyuck drops the phone on the counter. 

“What the fuck,” he hisses. The only things he’s written on Mark’s phone have been messages to Mark himself, so the addition of a new note is frightening, though, when he thinks about it, not at all shocking. He’s long come to terms with how _weird_ his situation is, and for Mark to be able to remotely write him letters isn’t the strangest thing to have happened to him. 

Opening the note, he can’t help but wonder what kind of wonderful secrets he’s about to learn, but is shocked to see that the note is empty— nothing is written but the title. 

_hello, sunshine_

The words appear before his eyes, typing themselves onto a blank screen. 

Donghyuck drops the phone in shock, before peering over the counter to see if anything else has been written. 

_ahh, yeah that’s the reaction i was going for, haha_

“What’s your deal, man?” Donghyuck whines, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He speaks as if Mark can hear him or something, a thought that should be preposterous.

_im not good at flirting_

“That’s what that was?” Donghyuck shrieks, pointing at the phone. “Dude, you _suck_.” 

_im working on it, i promise_

“I think there are more important things to do than flirt, Mark,” Donghyuck gestures towards the front of the shop, where people continue to pass him by. “What the fuck is going on?” 

_look, im working on that too_

Donghyuck crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair. “work harder,” he deadpans, and for a moment he swears he can hear laughter. 

_their presence will have drawn others to you_

“Who and what?” 

_expect the unexpected, but most importantly, expect friends_

Frowning at the message Donghyuck locks the phone and pushes it further down the bench. He doesn’t want it anywhere near him, but he also made a promise to keep it within sight. So he compromises, and keeps a visible distance. 

“You can’t flirt and you can’t give me a straight answer,” he says to nothing and no one, “so tell me, what _can_ you do?” 

“More than you can imagine.” 

This time, Donghyuck isn’t imagining it. 

Mark’s voice rings out through the store, almost as if he were there.

\------

Lunchtime rolls around and there are still no customers. At least, not ones entering the store. Donghyuck assumes that the veil has lifted, once people start to gather at the front window. But as time passes and the crowd grows, he assumes that the hoard outside isn’t exactly shopping for phone accessories. 

The skies outside darken, pitch black and resembling night. All Donghyuck can see through the window is the glowing red of eyes that watch his every move. Mark hasn’t been in contact, nor has he updated his notes. There’s nothing but silence and the faint red glow that fills the store. 

The creatures— whatever they are— begin to snarl and chatter at something. Donghyuck can’t see the commotion through the crowd, the sheer mass of bodies writhing at the windows obscuring his curious gaze. 

As they did with Donghyuck earlier, the group parts for _something_— unnerved and on edge, the sounds they make are inhuman and deafening. 

“Someone’s popular.”

Into Donghyuck’s store steps two boys. They don’t look around the store as customers often do. Instead, they make a beeline for the counter, one leaning against it casually with the other standing off to the side, eyeing the crowd of creatures with a wary gaze. 

“You could say that,” Donghyuck replies, cautiously. He doesn’t know these people, and therefore doesn’t trust them. Reaching for the phone, he tries to look casual as he snatches it from sight. 

He fails miserably, drawing attention from both of his customers. 

“Relax,” says the boy against the counter. He and his companion are both tall and blonde, handsome in their own ways. “We’re not here for that.”

“Keep that thing as far away from me as possible, thanks,” says his companion. His nose scrunches as he watches Donghyuck handle the device. “If any of us touch it, there will be some pretty fucking awful consequences.” 

“Ahh,” Donghyuck hums, twirling the phone in his hand. “But because I’m not like you, I can touch it?” 

“Incorrect,” says counter boy, his smile bright and disarming. “It’s still awful, just in a completely different way,” he extends a hand, grin never wavering. “I’m Jaemin, and you’re royally fucked.” 

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Donghyuck takes Jaemin’s hand and shakes it, awkwardly. 

“With me, it always is,” Jaemin winks, before yelping. The hem of his jacket smokes gently, small ember gnawing away at the denim. “Alright, Mark, _fuck_, you’ve made your point.” 

“That wasn’t Mark,” says Jaemin’s companion. He rolls his eyes, introduces himself as Jeno. 

An awkward silence falls between them, broken as the people outside begin to scratch at the doors and windows of the store. Jeno and Jaemin exchange glances. 

“Are you gonna take care of that, or am I stuck here?” Donghyuck gestures to the excited mass as they continue to stir. 

“What makes you think we can?” Jaemin grins, leans over the counter and into Donghyuck’s personal space. “How much do you know, sunshine?”

“I saw Mark burn and Kun nearly froze my dick off,” he raises an eyebrow in challenge. “So, my answer to you is: I know enough.” 

“So much and yet nothing at all,” Jeno sighs, “I’ll borrow Jaehyun for a moment, and then we’ll get you out of here, okay?” 

“Mark _did_ tell you to expect company, didn’t he?” 

Donghyuck nods. 

Jeno inhales deeply, a dark spiral etching itself into his forehead. With his exhale, light ceases to exist, as if sucked away completely. Donghyuck feels the same kind of weightless pressure as he did after his trip to the park, back when another one of Mark’s friends saved him from the creatures. 

His throat is sore, again, as the light filters back through. 

He knows this time, for sure, that he spend the entire time screaming. 

The store is empty, as is the street outside. 

Gentle afternoon sunlight filters in through the windows. 

\------

Donghyuck has never received so many phone calls in his life. Mark’s phone buzzes almost constantly, calls from an unlisted number coming through at all hours of the day and night. Mark hasn’t offered any further communication, so he just ignores the calls as they come through. 

For days and days, he endures. The buzzing of Mark’s phone becomes somewhat background noise— constant and unrelenting. 

It’s not until Donghyuck’s day off that he snaps, the phone buzzing hard enough to shift across his kitchen table. He grabs for the device, ignoring the way scratches and screeches begin to sound from where his curtains remain drawn across the windows. 

Whatever it is that follows him, they get so very excited when he touches the phone— silent and waiting until his fingers make contact. 

“I’ve had enough!” Donghyuck screams, the chattering increasing in volume as he addresses the creatures outside. “Leave me alone for like, ten fucking minutes, please?” 

He can hear the desperation in his own voice, answered by scratching and noises so vile and inhuman it makes his stomach turn. He turns the phone off with shaking hands and relishes in the silence that follows. 

Until the phone calls start again. 

Despite being turned off, they still connect. 

Donghyuck stares at the screen as Mark’s phone turns itself back on. 

No caller ID, 1954 Missed Calls.

\------

“Hi there.” 

Donghyuck knows he’s dreaming, because Mark sits at the end of his bed. His clothes are a little dirty and there’s a smear of blood along his cheek, but it’s fine. He’s not real, and therefore there’s nothing for Donghyuvk to clean up in the morning. 

“You’re half right,” Mark laughs, pulling his snapback from his head and ruffling his hair. “You’re not dreaming, but I’m also not entirely here.” 

“And you’re in my head, wonderful,” Donghyuck has the strongest urge to pull the covers back over his head and go back to sleep. 

“That’s kinda my deal, yeah,” Mark laughs. He pats Donghyuck’s ankle where it has slipped out from under his blanket. “Myself and people like me, we, uh, come with certain _abilities_.” 

“No kidding,” Donghyuck gives up on sleep, propping himself up so he can glare in Mark’s direction. “I’ve seen what you and your friends can do.” 

“We’re a little more impressive than what you think,” Mark informs him. Donghyuck wants to ask more, but refrains, knowing that he won’t be told. Judging by Mark’s laugh, he knows exactly what Donghyuck is thinking. 

“So you’re a firebending telepath, is that what you’re trying to tell me?” 

“Something like that,” Mark shrugs. 

“What’s the deal with the phone, Mark,” Donghyuck sighs. It still buzzes relentlessly on his bedside table. “I’m babysitting this fucking nightmare, so just… tell me why.” 

“My phone is me, it contains parts of my abilities,” Mark’s hand finds its way to his ankle once more, rubbing circles along the bone. It’s calming, a moment of solace amongst Donghyuck’s hellscape. “People like me are hard to find, and that phone is the only way to find them.” 

“So the things stalking me, they want to find you?” Donghyuck theorises. Mark hums in reply. 

“It would be a terrible thing if they knew where we were, Donghyuck,” Mark says softly. “Keeping hidden is just part of the job.” 

“What is your job?” 

Donghyuck desperately wants to know, he’s burning with curiosity that he just can’t sate. Mark, his friends, they’re part of something _huge_, something that Donghyuck can’t yet comprehend. 

And he wants to know everything about it. 

“Ten already told you,” Mark’s smile is wry. “We keep the balance.” 

“Of what?” Donghyuck cries, he reaches forward, trying to grasp at Mark. His visage is already fading and Donghyuck tries desperately to keep him in place. 

“Of everything.” 

Mark’s voice rings out into the empty bedroom. 

His phone still buzzes on Donghyuck’s bedside table. 

**Author's Note:**

> Theories? Thoughts? Predictions? Tell me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/pharmarkcy)


End file.
